


the opportunist

by aluinihi



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Character Study, M/M, Manipulation, Unresolved Emotional Tension, that thing when instead of feeling an emotion you think about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluinihi/pseuds/aluinihi
Summary: Because he sometimes wonders if he would have gotten this far if he hadn't been in the right place at the right time, stumbling into opportunities available to him just because he was there already and so hecould.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	the opportunist

**Author's Note:**

> Posting Shizaya and listening to My Chemical Romance was not how I envisioned 2020.

Izaya has a keen eye for noticing. Perhaps it is not a simple matter of vision, as he notices way more than he sees, and his ears too are in a continuous state of alert; perhaps it is all wired into him to a point beyond the level of senses and consciousness, because he sometimes wonders if he would have gotten this far if he hadn't been in the right place at the right time, stumbling into opportunities available to him just because he was there already and so he _could_.

(He likes to think that he knows what he wants. That he is aware of all the itches in his body and that his natural skill is there to help him scratch them away. He likes to think that because it's better than being a nine-year-old who saw things he shouldn't in his father's wardrobe, who connected the dots easily and showed his mother the finished thing, who got the end of a belt buckle hitting the side of his head and ran away to lick his wounds and whisper to himself—)

" _Ah…_ "

Shizuo is knuckle-deep inside him and his fingers have the perfect rhythm already; shallow, hard, _faster_ , and yet those brown eyes won't leave him alone, and the weight of attention is more effective at pining Izaya down than the hand on his waist. The precision of the movements speaks as loud as the soft pants mixing with Izaya's own uncontrollable sounds, and he doesn't really mind being under somebody else's full focus when it's convenient. But this is not the case.

He has _noticed_ it is not the case.

"Stop," he says, cringing internally when Shizuo complies. Izaya feels him pull out, sees the frown between his brows, and before his body can catch up with the emptiness or Shizuo can give voice to whatever he thinks is worth asking right now, Izaya smirks. "Get on with it, Shizu-chan, I don't have all night."

And even if he did, he would rather not spend it in Shizuo's bed.

Shizuo arches a brow at him and Izaya's hands find the bulge in his pants, press hard enough to elicit a hiss, and then his fingers are scrambling to get past the button and the zipper and that frustrating barrier of cloth while Shizuo reaches for the bottle abandoned somewhere on the mattress.

They make quick work of it — or better yet, Izaya makes sure Shizuo doesn't have time to think with the head that isn't of his cock — and Izaya closes his eyes to feel the burn of the stretch. It would be amusing if he had the mind to find it so, that his body seems to refuse to get used to Shizuo and so he has to deal with the pain doesn't matter how many times they do this; but now, all he can do is throw his head back, bite back a moan, and relish in how effortlessly the grip on his hips holds him still, as if this momentary lack of control overcoming Izaya is _nothing_ compared to Shizuo's willingness to fuck him raw.

When he opens his eyes, he notices— 

— _that_ , again.

He can't turn it off, this skill of his. He saw it, he noticed, he entertained the possibilities without even trying to do so, and the indication is between his legs, staring down at him with an expression that resembles devotion and all the nuisances that come with it. Izaya has noticed, yes, and so he finds himself with a piece of information and a list of suitable uses for it if it comes to be true.

Sometimes, he thinks it's the most thrilling thing that could ever happen to him. When Shizuo pulls back and then thrusts back in, and Izaya claws at his shoulders and displays his own neck like it's an offering and Shizuo _accepts_ , like it's the easiest thing for him. When the press of lips against his skin is careful to the point of being _tender_ , when the pace is clearly set to punch soft noises out of him, when Shizuo pushes him down the mattress to kiss him with a gentleness that is so uncharacteristic — Izaya feels the thrill. He feels his arms holding a weapon, of the most deadly and large-scale destruction kind, and all he has to do is set the target. 

The principle is simple enough. Izaya could give Shizuo the right words to maneuver him, to take aim and pull the trigger. 

But then he doesn't.

Instead, he bites Shizuo's lip with a strength that would draw blood from anyone else. For Ikebukuro's monster though, it's just another reason to groan.

 _Now_ , he reckons, is the right place and the right time, but Izaya forgoes the opportunity; he locks his legs around Shizuo, hips twitching to meet Shizuo's halfway, and lets the sparks of pleasure build inside him until they start a fire. Unsurprisingly, the devastation remains within the limits of Izaya's body, burning under his skin while Shizuo acts like he is the breeze to mellow it. 

Incoherent, inconsistent, illogical. That the hand that can break bones like crumpling paper is the same hand that pulls him closer and touches the right places and brings him to orgasm like it was made for that.

"Izaya," and it's said with the same need as taking a breath. He runs his fingers through soft blond hair, whimpers his overstimulation as he feels himself clench around Shizuo. " _Izaya_. You're—"

The end of the sentence is lost against the side of his neck, where Shizuo hides his face to growl unintelligibly as he comes.

They stay still for a moment ( _now_ , he tells himself), then Shizuo pulls out and lies down beside him ( _now_ …!), turns to look at him with those brown eyes like— ( _now._ )

 _Now_ , if Izaya says the right words, it's his.

But then he doesn't.

Shizuo doesn't say anything either, content to just stay within arm's reach like a book Izaya could pick up and read whenever he felt like. He doesn't inch closer nor moves further away.

Izaya reckons that his skill _is_ failing him, for a change. He hasn't noticed any flaws in the pattern, and he is sure even if takes it apart he won't find any room for doubt, but for what other reason wouldn't he grab an opportunity handed to him on a silver platter?

His heart aches in answer and he tells himself that silence is no reason to be glad.

**Author's Note:**

> Changed my mind. No longer in anon.  
> hmu on twitter @aluinihi


End file.
